


Tension

by Dolthalion



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-17
Updated: 2013-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 15:24:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/688489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dolthalion/pseuds/Dolthalion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PWP.  Arthur takes things into his own hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tension

Arthur flopped onto his bed with a groan. He didn’t move for a long moment, before he realised that the pillow still smelt of Alfred’s shampoo and thin arms grabbed it, pulling it into himself so he could hug it tightly and burry his face in it. He was tired. Exhausted, even, but that was his own fault. Talking to Alfred into the early hours of the morning every night since he had left again was almost entirely the cause of that, but work wasn’t helping, and Arthur got the feeling that Alfred was just as tired as he was.

But that’s what naps were for, right? Arthur lifted his head to glance at his alarm clock, green eyes taking in the digital numbers. He still had a good four hours before Alfred would be home, and that was more than enough time to catch a quick nap. Sitting up, he pulled his shirt over his head, not bothering with the buttons (it was an old one, and too big for him now), then flicked his flies undone with a twist of his wrist and kicked his trousers off. Arching to get the duvet from underneath him, Arthur curled up on Alfred’s side of the bed, using his pillow and hugging Alfred’s back in towards him, closing his eyes.

Peace didn’t come to him, though, and despite being so desperately tired, Arthur couldn’t still his mind. He was running on caffeine and adrenaline, and it would take more than just lying down to relax. Turning onto his back, leaving the pillow behind him, Arthur stared up at the ceiling, blankly. He vaguely noticed that there was a cobweb in the corner, and made a note to talk to the brownies when he got up. They were probably upset that he hadn’t been paying too much attention to them recently, since Alfred was stealing most of his attention.

Distracting himself with thoughts of Alfred, Arthur found himself stroking his side in the same comforting way that his boyfriend did.

As his hand slid over the sensitive skin of his hip, Arthur hesitated, biting his lip. All right, it would help him sleep, but he felt vaguely guilty that the only thing currently filling his minds eye was short blonde hair and soft blue eyes. 

Still, Alfred wouldn’t mind, right…?

Arthur slid his hand back up his chest, moving away from his side so that he didn’t have to feel the ridges of his ribs. Instead, he closed his eyes and remembered how it had felt to have Alfred kiss him, hand slowly tracing over his nipple. He remembered how Alfred occasionally nibbled on his lip, and how it had felt to part his lips and demand entrance to Alfred’s mouth, his rough fingertips circling the quickly hardening nipple. His other hand moved along his stomach towards his hip, and Arthur briefly broke his fantasy to wish his fingers were softer – more like Alfred’s. Still, his hips shifted a little under his own touch, as he slid his hand over soft boxers, and along the inside of his leg, teasing himself a little as he tried to imagine that the weight of the duvet was the weight of Alfred’s muscled form.

He didn’t tease himself for long, hand moving back up and then slipping into his boxers, brushing his palm over his hardening cock as he pinched his nipple, imagining Alfred’s smirk at his soft gasp. Biting his lip again – and wishing that he had Alfred to kiss, Arthur slid his fingers over the head, teasing himself until he was fully hard. Annoyed now that his boxers were getting in the way, he arched his hips and slid his other hand under the waistband too, pushing them down and then kicking them off with the covers, pausing a minute to toe his socks off too, feeling odd to be naked except for them.

Hesitating again as he flopped back down to the bed, Arthur almost stopped, but as his fingers brushed over his cock again, he let out a soft moan, and pushed the last of his anxiety away. He curled his fingers around the aching organ and pumped, down to the base and then up again. As he did so, he thought about Alfred kneeling between his legs and sucking him off. He moaned again, louder this time, as he remembered the feel of his warm mouth, speeding up and jerking his hips, squeezing and twisting in a routine that was familiar to the Nation that had never had a proper relationship before.

It wasn’t enough any more. Arthur made a soft whine, tracing his other hand down to feel full balls, and then slowly slipping further back. The needy way that he sat against his own fingers told him all that he needed to know, and Arthur drew back his hand to suck on his own fingers, trying to imagine the face that Alfred would pull if he did this to him. When they were coated in his saliva, he returned them, circling his entrance slowly until he bucked into it, pushing himself in. He whined at the intrusion, but it felt good, and he concentrated on thinking of Alfred as he slowly worked the muscle, picturing the face the American Nation pulled when he was focusing on something.

Arthur had never been treated so gently, and so even though he was trying to recreate what he would feel like with Alfred, as soon as his finger was in as deep as he could reach he pulled back, and returned with two, scissoring himself open as he fisted his cock eagerly. He was panting now, his brow sweaty, as he arched into his hand and deeper onto his fingers, his composed fantasy slipping entirely away into the blunt image of Alfred fucking him.

He comes hard as his fingers brush against his sweet spot, pinching the foreskin of his cock closed so that his come doesn’t go everywhere. His fingers are still deep inside himself, muscles tightening around them, but all he can see are blue eyes and a winning smile.

After the last waves of his orgasm leave him, he collapses limply into the sheets, fingers slipping out into a more comfortable position, though he keeps his other hand firmly holding his cock. He lets a long sigh slip past his lips, and opens his eyes onto the ceiling, finally having found the peace that he wanted before – but having to move. Slowly, and swaying a little, he sits up and swings his legs off the bed, walking a little awkwardly into the bathroom to spill his seed into the toilet and wash himself off, wiping a sweaty brow on the back of his hand once his hand is freed.

He pads back into the bedroom and flops down onto the bed once more, and this time it’s barely minutes before he’s asleep, blankets barely covering his legs and one hand curled over his pillow.

The fairies come out of hiding, giggling at what they have witnessed, though two move in to drag the blankets over their friend’s sleeping form. They’ll have to keep replenishing Alfred’s smell on his pillow with their spells if this is the result! They are careful not to wake him, though, most disappearing to amuse themselves elsewhere, though as ever a few remain to watch over him as he rests, attempting to bless away his nightmares with whispered spells and tiny hands in his wild hair.

Arthur is woken a few hours later by the phone. He gropes for it sleepily, and peers at the number, before smiling fondly and taking the call, flopping onto his back. “Afternoon, love.” He says to Alfred, content and rested.


End file.
